How Things Circle Around
by darlaranger
Summary: Chapter 3 -- Last Stop of the Day -- Jordan's POV
1. From MaMa to Ma in 18 Years

Author:  Darlaranger

Story Title:  How Things Circle Around

Chapter Title:  From Ma-Ma to Ma in Just 18 Years.

Disclaimer:  I'm a poor college student.  I own nothing, literally.  Please don't sue.

Chapter Summary:  The name a mother wears—Jordan's POV

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**How Things Circle Around: From Ma-Ma to Ma in Just 18 Years**

07.21.03 @ 11:14 PM 

Her first word wasn't _Ma_, but then, almost no child's first words refer to the one who brought him or her into the world. No, her first words were _Da_, and my husband melted every time he heard the words. Still does in fact.

But, then eventually _Ma-Ma_ came. Such a joyful burst of speech coming from such a beautiful child. I welcomed that sound into my life at every moment, from the dark of night to the dawn of day--it was never a burden to hear it spoken, only a joy. 

I can see her now, after all these years, toddling after me, testing out the word in her mouth, innocence incarnate. How ignorant she was of all the pains I knew, she became my healer. Every _Ma-Ma sewing up another scar, soothing another scratch. She was my candle in the night, her words my flame. _

Too fast, _Ma-Ma_ morphed into _Momma_. Just a little difference, I know, but such a significant change. My baby learned the power of that single word, the reactions it can evoke, and the necessary tones to gain her desired response. It became a sign that she was growing up, no longer a wobbly-legged infant, but a beautiful raven-haired child walking around the house in her mother's shoes, learning in a few steps what most could never learn in a mile--being _Momma_ is hard. But for every scratch that I cleaned up, I got an "_I love you, Momma," from my little girl, and decided that maybe _Momma_ wasn't that bad after all. _

Then kindergarten came. I'll never forget the sound of her voice coming from the doorway of that classroom. "Bye, _Mommy," she said and ran off into a world I couldn't enter. I was so frightened for her, not knowing what she would encounter during the day, not being able to protect her from the dangers I knew were out there. And she was slowly separating from me. Slowly but surely she needed me less and less. _Mommy_ was just convenient now, when she needed attention or love. But she always got it._

When she was 12, she started calling me _Mom. A young girl, standing in front of the mirror, trying on the robes of womanhood too soon, pretending she possessed all the magic and wisdom of femininity. Trying to be callous, trying to be grown-up. Still silently and slyly comparing herself to me, measuring us up, deciding what she wants to take of me, while trying to reject all I have to give. One moment tearing off in anger, muttering about her _Mom_ as she stomped away--the next, crawling up next to me on the couch, needing her __Mom to heal her cracked heart, to wipe her teary eyes. I think being _Mom _was hardest of all._

But, then, _Mom_ went away and was replaced with _Ma_. So close to that first name, yet so long down that road. My girl said _Ma with such sophistication, such confidence, such promise--a word that exudes so much, from a child who should not yet be so old. It spoke of leaving, of beginning a life of her own, of becoming a woman and finally fitting into that skin she tried on so long ago. _

It is with this change that I realize _Ma is hardest of them all, because though she may still need me now and then, she's grown now. The journey from _Ma-Ma_ to _Ma_ has been long, and it has been hard. It charts the growth of an innocent baby girl into a knowing young woman, a growth that I've guided, a woman that I have to let go and find herself on her own._


	2. A Rose By Any Other Name

Author:  Darlaranger

Story Title:  How Things Circle Around

Chapter Title:  A Rose By Any Other Name

Disclaimer:  I'm a poor college student.  I own nothing, literally.  Please don't sue.

Chapter Summary:  The meaning in her name--Jordan's POV

Credits:  Quite obviously, the title of this chapter belongs to W. Shakespeare. It appears in _Romeo & Juliet: Act II, Scene 2._

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**How Things Circle Around: A Rose by Any Other Name**  
07.22.03 @ 12:15 AM 

I have to say, I had no control over her name. I was drugged. I barely knew my own name at the time.  
  
I mean, Farmboy and I had discussed the whole name issue, but what he decided to name her while I lay semi-conscious never even came up during our discussions. (Although, he does say that he **did** ask me when he was filling out her birth certificate. He says I nodded yes to his suggestion. I say I was drugged, I can't be held responsible).  
  
So that is why I have a daughter named Meghann Jordan Emily Hoyt. Meggie for short.   
  
It's not a bad name. In fact, it's a pretty damn good one. It's solid and it's strong.   
  
_Meghann_ means either **strong** or **soft and gentle** depending on where you check. _Jordan_ means **descendent**, and _Emily_ means **admiring**. All-in-all, it was a name that suggested wonderful things.   
  
And it's not that I don't like her name, I love it. I liked _Meghann_ from the very beginning. I liked the sound of it, and I liked the distinctive spelling. I wanted to give her a little individuality from the moment of her birth--not that she'd need any help in that area, but still I wanted it. And _Emily_ I can understand, Farmboy wanted to give me something I didn't even know I needed--a bit of my mother in my daughter's life.   
  
But _Jordan__?_ I don't know why Farmboy thought she needed my name added to the mix. That was just asking for trouble, but he wanted it, and he got it.   
  
It backfired on him though. The child turned out just like me--in looks, spirit, heart, and passion--with the exception of those cornflower blue eyes she got from her daddy. And maybe her sweetness came from Farmboy too--yeah, it probably did. But otherwise, her personality is entirely me.   
  
She's hellfire on wheels--stubborn, bull-headed, smart-assed--she's got all of the traits I used to admire most about myself, until I found myself confronted by someone I couldn't outsmart, couldn't beat, didn't even want to beat. Meggie and I butted heads many times throughout her childhood, our bull-headed tendencies getting the best of the both of us. But we made it through all right.  
  
When things get too heated between us, I just go yell at Farmboy. After all, he set this whole thing in motion; he condemned her to being like me. But he doesn't mind when I yell, he doesn't see our similarities as a bad thing. And when he says that, I'm tempted to believe that it's not.


	3. Last Stop of the Day

Author:  Darlaranger

Story Title:  How Things Circle Around

Chapter Title:  Last Stop of the Day

Disclaimer:  I'm a poor college student.  I own nothing, literally.  Please don't sue.

Chapter Summary:  She falls in love every night —Jordan's POV

Honorable mentions:  Thanks to Sabrina and jordanchick for their reviews of my first two chapters.

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**How Things Circle Around: Last Stop of the Day**  
07.22.03 @ 11:40 PM 

Every night, before I finally surrender myself to sleep, I take a walk down the upper hallway of my house. Just a few doors down from my own bed, my daughter sleeps safely. For the past 18 years, I've walked this path almost every night.  
  
I need to reassure myself that she's there, because sometime it feels like the most wonderful dream I could ever have--I'm afraid one day I'll wake up, and there'll be no one sleeping down the hall.  
  
As I watch her breath in and out from the doorway of her room, I can't help having a hard time believing that she came from me. It's amazing to think that this lanky-limbed, raven-haired miracle once grew inside of me. She's the proof that I've got a bit of innocence left, that I've got a bit of good in me, that what I do and what I see hasn't cut it all away.  
  
I've always been amazed by her, since the very moment of her birth. I remember the first time I saw her, just born, red and squalling and covered in the remnants of what had been her home for the past nine months cradled in the doctor's hands. And then the moment we met, when Farmboy took her gently from the nurse, terrified of hurting her, and slowly brought her over to lie in my arms. Those perfect hands and feet, those 10 fingers and 10 toes, miniature nose and ears--it was like holding a piece of heaven in your arms.  
  
If you know me, you know that love doesn't come easily for me. I have a history of running away, of backing off, of going a little wild when I feel love getting too close to my skin. Farmboy had a hell of a time convincing me that he loved me, and then again trying to get me to admit that I loved him.  
  
But with my newborn daughter in my arms, sucking at my breast, clenching the finger of my husband tightly as he sat beside us, enthralled, I fell in love. Deep, hard, instantaneous love. And for the first time ever, my first thought was not to run away as fast as my feet would carry my hidden heart. This time, I wanted to grab on to her, and never let her go.  
  
So almost every night since the day we brought her home my last stop of the day is her room. I tiptoe in, and gently pry whatever she fell asleep reading from her hands. I pull the covers up to her shoulders, and then I kneel, put my palm on her back, and just feel the motion of her breathing. I whisper _I love you, baby_ as I back away into the hall, turning off the light as I go.  
  
I'm almost completely out when I hear her response in the darkness, _I love you too, Ma_.   
  
And I fall in love again, every single night.


End file.
